


Darkness

by cloudsarefluffy



Series: Derek's Fucked Up [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek, Altered Mental States, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Animalistic, Animalistic Pack, Breeding, Canon-Typical Violence, Changing the Pack, Dark Allison, Dark Derek Hale, Dark Stiles, Dark and Unhealthy Relationship, Derek Has Issues, Derek Makes Sure Stiles Can't Get Away, Derek kinda sounds like a cliche villian sometimes wtf?, Dubious Morality, Escape Attempt, Feral Behavior, Fucked Up, Full Shift Werewolves, I swear I didn't intend that one, Implied/Referenced Dubious Consent, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, In a way, Instinct Manipulation, Internal Conflict, M/M, Manipulative Derek, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mental Disintegration, Metamorphosis, Mpreg, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Not Beta'd, Occasional POV Derek, Omega Stiles Stilinski, POV Stiles, Pack Building, Pack Dynamics, Pack Training, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Derek, Prompt Fic, Prompt Fill, Rape/Non-con Elements, Stiles Gives Up, Stiles Has Issues, Stiles Stilinski is Seventeen Years Old, Stockholm Syndrome, The Author Regrets Everything, The Pack is Not Alright, To a point, Transformation, Unhealthy Relationships, Voyeurism, Werewolf Stiles Stilinski, but his are pretty brief and few and far between, collaring, she's bound by pack laws and whatnot, sort of, tied-up stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-11
Updated: 2015-11-11
Packaged: 2018-04-28 20:57:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5105492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cloudsarefluffy/pseuds/cloudsarefluffy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <h5>Sequel to "Little Red"</h5><p>My friend, Shelby, asked for this in her sequel: <i>tying up, pack omega, <b>darkness</b></i></p><p>---</p><p>The beta is compliant, and his eyes are still flashing at Stiles as he whines for forgiveness.</p><p>Stiles rumbles deeply at him, “<i>I’m your omega now.</i>”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Darkness

**Author's Note:**

> Happy birthday, Shelby! You're an adult now! Whoo!~
> 
> Anyways, I legit just finished this and I want to go to bed so byeeeeeeeeeee  
> HEAD MY WARNING: IT'S DARK AF
> 
> As always, links are at the bottom!
> 
> Enjoy!~

Stiles is lost among the chaos at first, with all of the claws and fangs flying past him in violent blurs of motion until the two werewolves separate enough to glare at one another. Adrenaline pumps through his veins as he watches the scene before him unfold — with Derek and Scott doing this dangerous dance as they growl at one another. The teen covers himself up with Derek’s discarded sleeping bag, feeling his heart race as feelings conflict within him.

He wants Scott to hurt Derek — wants his friend to hurt the alpha and betray him like Derek had done — but there’s this voice in the back of his head hissing for the exact opposite. It surprises Stiles, enough so to where he is frozen in place, at war with himself like the two animals fighting for the upper hand in front of him.

_Don’t let Derek get hurt — you need your alpha healthy._

Stiles swallows as much as he can with a dry mouth, the tendrils of doubt weaving their way into his throat to the point where he can’t scream or tell Derek and Scott to stop.

The werewolves, though, have seem to already hit an impasse somehow. Although they’re both wounded, with their clothes and skin torn alike, the alpha and beta have downgraded to venomous glares instead of sinking their nails or teeth into flesh. Stiles is grateful in some sense, because with this abrupt change in his morale, he’s unsure if he could’ve stopped them from slaughtering one another.

Stiles still watches them carefully, wondering what they’ll do next.

“I thought Jackson was lying,” Scott grits out, his voice breaking in a way that makes Stiles’ throat convulse painfully in sympathy.

“It was going to happen eventually,” Derek says, seemingly nonchalant as his eyes bore holes into the beta, “With how Stiles threw himself onto me—“

“ _Don’t you dare,_ ” he hisses, his finger coming up to point at the alpha accusingly, “You don’t get to twist that shit around to better what you did to him.”

Derek scoffs, “’What I did to him’? In case you weren’t told, Stiles wasn’t an unwilling party.”

Scott’s face is red now, his eyes flashing yellow vibrantly in rage, “He was _drunk._ You took advantage of him.”

Stiles opens his mouth to say something, but again, nothing comes out. While the rational side of him wants to agree with Scott — to point out that Derek changed him without consent — but that voice in his head is back, whispering to Stiles that what Derek did was for the better and that there was no need to sully his alpha’s image.

Scott and Derek must’ve noticed Stiles’ wordless confliction, because the two are looking at him as he reluctantly shuts his mouth.

“Stiles,” Scott whispers, and it’s then that Stiles realizes his best friend’s eyes are red-rimmed, “please. Whatever he did to you—“

“I did what he always wanted me to do.”

Scott waits a second to break eye contact with Stiles, his gaze asking thousands of questions that, at this point so far, Stiles isn’t sure how to answer. However, the empathetic questioning is gone as soon as Scott’s eyes land on Derek again, and the hot ire he has for the alpha takes over yet again.

His reply is heated, and his teeth are bared subtly as he growls, “You don’t get to speak for him. _Ever._ ”

God, what did Stiles do to deserve the miracle of this friendship?

Derek doesn’t look phased, though. In fact, he seems unimpressed with Scott’s unsaid threat.

“You think you can tell me what to do, _pup?”_ Derek’s eyes flash red, and instantly, things change.

Stiles lets out a small whine at the sight of Derek’s crimson irises, and the nagging whispers in his head build up to shouts. Stiles finds himself positioning himself on the floor, his neck bared, and his own irises flashing in response.

“Y-You—“ Scott’s eyes are widened in shock as Stiles somehow manages to meet his gaze, “you _changed_ him…”

“I told you,” Derek says with a grin, and Stiles instantly looks over to meet that lurid stare, “I did what he always wanted me to.”

Scott rears at that, “He didn’t consent to that! Even if he did, he was drunk—“

“God, you’re like a broken loop,” Derek drawls, and he saunters over to Stiles, the newly-made werewolf unable to move away or scurry like he had at first last night, “Don’t you realize that this is for the better? For both Stiles _and_ the pack?”

There’s a growl from off to the side, but Stiles is too busy watching his alpha that he doesn’t try to find its source, “How is changing Stiles against his will good for any of us?”

“Scott, you remember those lessons I gave you when you were first changed, right?”

Scott doesn’t answer, but he doesn’t really have to at this point.

Derek kneels down in front of Stiles, holding out two fingers to the teen, and he doesn’t have to ask Stiles for him to initiate touch, because Stiles does it on impulse and whines inaudibly, “I told you that a true pack is whole. There’s no vacant spaces, and that everyone has a place. It’s this role and hierarchy that make a pack work— that make it _strong,_ ” Derek’s gaze with Stiles is fond — soft — almost as if he was never livid or fighting with Scott at all previously, “The healthiest of packs have a foundation at its heart. While the alpha is the driving force— the strength of a pack— there’s another that the pack will find themselves leaning on…”

Scott is quiet for a moment, either by being reluctantly curious, or wary of the current stare between Stiles and Derek, “And that is? . . .”

“The pack omega.”

Stiles feels forlorn as Derek’s fingers leave from underneath his chin, and he tries to gain them back, moving forward as he seeks them out again. The action makes Derek smirk, but he turns his focus on Scott as he starts asking more questions.

“Pack omega? I thought omegas were lone werewolves gone insane.”

Derek sighs, “Modern terminology can be so inaccurate. You see, my family was a traditional werewolf pack. We were taught the ways of the wolf, and how humanity was a lesser part of things.”

“But our humanity is what keeps us alive,” Scott defends, “It’s what keeps us from becoming animals.”

Derek’s eye gains a dangerous glint, “But we _are_ animals, Scott. We just happen to have coats of human skin as well, but we’ll always wear our pelts better.”

“I don’t—“

“We were never a real pack, Scott. Not for a while,” Derek seems disappointed with that admission, “You never knew what we were lacking because folk tales taught you differently.”

Scott frowns, “Then why not tell me about it?”

“Because it wasn’t the right time,” Derek murmurs, and then he glances at Stiles, “It wasn’t going to be right until conditions became optimal.”

Scott pauses, “So you’re saying that— . . . that Stiles is what we are missing?”

“What we _were_ missing,” Derek corrects somewhat smugly, “but I fixed that last night… You see, an alpha can run a pack by themselves, but there will be issues that come along with their sole presence. You all act like untrained pups at best, running around and creating petty high school drama wherever you go. Now, though, I finally have Stiles with me. That last gap has been filled, and now, our pack will stronger and better than ever.”

“But—“

Derek growls, “No. I’ve waited far too long for this. I was tired of running a joke of a pack— of teenagers giving me lip because you all think that you _know_ what you’re doing. But with Stiles—“ Derek looks at the teen in question on the ground, his lips quirking in a smirk, “with Stiles, I can finally have the pack I’ve longed for since my first was taken from me.”

Stiles feels sluggish, like he can understand what Derek is saying, but nothing’s sinking in. In fact, it’s actually as if his brain is a used piece of tape, and nothing wants to stick to it, and instead is slipping away into nothingness as he finds himself stuck on Derek and his eyes.

Scott awkwardly clears his throat, “Stiles isn’t a means to an end, Derek.”

“No, he’s not. In fact,” Derek’s gaze grows heady and dark, specifically so when his eyes land on Stiles’ flat abdomen, “Stiles is a means to a beginning.”

The beta is quiet now, as is the alpha. Yet, there’s a lot of unsaid things going on, buzzing around Stiles and Derek as though they were a hive of unspoken interactions. Time even feels infinite and paused as Stiles looks up at Derek, the buzzing now formed of this new persona that’s been crammed into his skull since some time last night.

Derek and his attention makes Stiles want to lay out and present himself — to lay his body bare for the alpha and let him take what he wants like he had only some hours ago. It’s a carnal desire — one that flares up hotly and licks against Stiles’ spine hungrily. He feels his body reacting to the thought of Derek making good on that word of his — of showing Stiles what kind of beginning he’s referring to exactly.

Derek must notice Stiles’ eagerness to the idea of that happening, because his nostrils flare as his lips curl ravenously.

“Derek,” Scott says after a moment, “I don’t understand…”

“You will in time,” Derek murmurs, his gaze not having left Stiles nor dampened down in lust, “Lord knows I’ve waited a long time myself just for this moment…”

Stiles’ lips part slightly, his heated breath passing over his lips as he feels himself slip further and further into whatever new psychological skin the bite has given him.

“But Derek—“

“It’s about time that I took real control of a _real_ pack, Scott. I’ve grown tired of this group of misfits, and as of right now, things are going to start changing. Specifically, _you_ are going to start changing.”

Scott’s mouth opens either to protest or ask what in the Hell Derek is talking about, but before he can utter a word, Derek is growling at Stiles, forcing a response out of the younger werewolf immediately.

Stiles keens, and feels his eyes flash in response. There’s a thrumming underneath his skin, causing Stiles to gasp as he begins to feel emotions that don’t seem like his own. They’re demanding — _greedy,_ almost — in the light of what it wants. Stiles can see in envisions of a pack, strong and hearty all throughout, growing in number with a steady hierarchy at its base. All of the lower, lesser wolves bow down to him and Derek as they stand side by side, showing their absolute submission to their alpha and omega.

The mental image, even if not his own, causes a feral craving to prickle along Stiles’ skin.

“A-Alpha.”

It’s the first thing he’s been able to get out despite startled noises since last night, and even then it’s something he unintentionally blurts aloud. Still, Derek doesn’t seem opposed to it, in fact, welcomes it even. He’s smiling at Stiles with both contentment and underlying desire, and nods at the younger werewolf.

Stiles doesn’t know how it happened, or exactly how he was able to insinuate what he did from just a simple, wordless nod, but in seconds, he’s over Scott and is growling at him, teeth bared. Unlike Derek or Scott, there’s no extra fur that sprouts from his face or arms as he feels his fangs drop, his wolf somehow taking control without much mental incentive on Stiles’ part. He feels this want to overpower Scott rage through him, and he personifies it with his forearm braced heavily against Scott’s throat, while a snarl comes out of his own.

Surprise is a fleeting emotion on Scott’s face, because it soon falls way to this kicked puppy look as his eyes flash their lowly, beta yellow. He whines at Stiles, baring his throat as best as he can, and averts his gaze as though he were just scolded with a newspaper to the nose.

A rumble of satisfaction escapes Stiles, almost sounding like a content purr, but he lifts his arm just enough from Scott’s neck to allow the beta to breathe easily, but to not forgo his unstated warning.

“Oh, Stiles.”

Stiles nearly looks up from Scott, but there’s a more prominent impulse to keep staring at Scott — to not allow the beta access to an easy opening at dominance — and he whines in displeasure for it.

“I know words are hard for you right now, and that you’re frustrated with your new urges,” Derek begins, his footfalls getting closer and closer to Stiles, “but damn do you look beautiful like this. I always knew you would look absolutely amazing when wild…”

Stiles swallows, his breathing rough as Scott still submits beneath him. He’s making no physical or verbal move to thwart Stiles in his advances to assert himself, leaving an animalistic mollification to tickle Stiles pink.

A hand places itself on Stiles’ shoulder, making him jolt. Scott freezes even further, his limbs stiffened with fear as a finger lifts Stiles’ jaw away from the beta.

Stiles finds his eyes seeking out Derek instantly, and when he meets his alpha’s gaze once more, a shaky, surprised breath leaves him. There’s a slight tremble in his form as all the tension leaves him, as though he were a string wound too tight, and these shakes were the aftershocks of his strain.

“You’re so beautiful,” Derek murmurs, his thumb tracing the jut of Stiles’ cheekbone reverently, “So feral…”

“D-Derek, I—“

It’s the most Stiles is able to get out coherently, but a finger against his plump lips stops him short. Derek doesn’t look angry like he had been when he interrupted Scott earlier. In fact, he somehow seems affectionate.

“There will be a time to talk,” the alpha whispers, his voice a constant in the instability that is currently Stiles’ headspace, a sort of anchor for the apparent omega to hold onto to keep himself grounded, “Now, though, you need to act fast. You need to show Scott that being an omega means that you deserve respect, and that he _will_ give it to you. Thankfully enough, you got him supple to any type of molding right now.”

Stiles shakes his head, albeit reluctant to a point, “But I don’t want to do that…”

“Stiles,” Derek kneels down to be almost eye level with Stiles, causing his brain to short circuit per its status quo today, especially when he flashes his eyes to make Stiles pay rapt attention to him, “make Scott submit, and make him obey. You are the pack omega now. You are just as important and superior as an alpha in comparison to him, and you will make sure that this insufferable pup knows that.”

Stiles nods, his brain going into its fog again, and he looks downwards towards Scott.

A small part of Stiles’ conscious is screaming in disagreement, but it’s severely drowned out by this inherent thirst for Scott’s absolute submission to him. He finds himself moving as though he were drugged, his vision slightly blurred from movement as he once again pins Scott down.

The beta is compliant, and his eyes are still flashing at Stiles as he whines for forgiveness.

Stiles rumbles deeply at him, “ _I’m your omega now._ ”

His words have an unusual timber to them — a grit that he never possessed, even after the deepening effects of puberty. This new addition must be something brought on by the bite — like Derek’s own alpha tone — because Scott is instantly nodding his head as though saying no would physically hurt him.

“You’re doing so good, Stiles,” Derek whispers against the shell of Stiles’ ear, his comments only loud enough for Stiles to hear, “but you need to make sure that Scott understands his place without a doubt.”

Stiles leans down a bit, baring his lengthened fangs at Scott until the whining ceases.

“He knows now,” Derek murmurs, petting Stiles’ rigid form, “He knows that you’re above him.”

Stiles becomes lax then, allowing himself to lean into Derek’s chest. The alpha wraps his arms around Stiles, making the omega feel contained in a way that calms the new voices shrieking in his head.

“Derek,” Stiles slumps against Derek, all of his fight leaving him as he nuzzles back into the alpha.

“You did so good, Stiles. You’re a natural at this,” Derek purrs, sounding impressed, “That was amazing to see.”

Stiles sighs, closing his eyes softly, “I feel drained…”

“You might’ve exerted yourself, which can be a little much this early into your change.”

“My change? Derek, what—”

Derek lifts Stiles away from Scott, the beta remaining on the floor as he cocoons on himself. Stiles watches Scott convulse on the ground minutely, his mind in its own fog.

“Derek, what’s happening?”

Stiles feels small and fragile in Derek’s arms as the alpha carries him away from the other werewolf, “The bite can be instant for some changes, but others take some time. Your body is going to be going through some physical changes within the next few days, and mentally, I’m sure you’ve noticed some new additions.”

Stiles nods haggardly, and he lets his head rest against Derek’s shoulder, “Yeah… But what about Scott?”

“You initiated his own transformation,” Derek kisses the top of Stiles’ forehead, “His’ll be shorter than yours, since he’s had the bite longer.”

“What did I do to him?”

“Changed him for the better,” Derek smiles, and Stiles is surprised to find that Derek has set him into the back seat of the Camaro, “Now rest, Stiles. I’ll take care of things for right now…”

Stiles wants to protest — wants to ask Derek what in the Hell is going on — but he’s just so damn _tired._

As he begins to slip into unconsciousness, Stiles swears he feels Derek’s hand brush a loose strand of hair away before he’s completely gone.

 

**-xXx-**

Derek shuts the back door to the Camaro softly, careful not to wake his exhausted mate up from his much needed sleep. He hinted to Stiles that things were going to change, but not to what extent exactly.

Little does Stiles know how much is _actually_ in motion now.

Fallen leaves crunch underneath Derek’s bare feet, their skin tacky with some drops and spatters of his and Scott’s blood alike since their fight earlier. It makes Derek smirk, knowing how Stiles was trying so hard to stand up for his best friend but couldn’t — couldn’t with how Derek changed him for the better. It only makes Derek more satisfied as he walks back into the remaining tatters that was formerly his tent, because Scott is thrashing on the ground now, well into his change.

“Such a pity,” Derek murmurs, kneeling down to hold a hand to steady Scott’s struggling form, “I almost wish Stiles wasn’t going to be aware of what he’s done, but alas, for the greater good of our pack, there must be sacrifices.”

Scott lets out several displeased grunts, but he’s nowhere near being capable of producing words anymore, not after Stiles initiated the final stage of the bite.

“I won’t miss your petty-mindedness,” Derek says casually as he takes down the remnants of his tent as Scott pants heavily, “I’m sure this new version of you will be a major improvement to how you used to be. Now at least you’ll finally listen to your alpha.”

There’s no fight from the beta now — no barbed comment that makes Derek want to rip his throat out for being insubordinate — and he relishes in it. In fact, he’s smirking as he sits on a nearby downed log, watching the concluding phases of the bite take place. Scott is out of it now, writhing in pain as he fights against his own body.

“Just let it happen, Scott. It’s so much easier if you just accept your true nature,” the alpha snorts then, “But then again, you always did struggle with your wolf, right? You _actually_ thought that we could tame that beast inside of ourselves— that we could deny ourselves from acting out things predetermined by nature itself. You must understand, Scott, there was never a way to control a wolf— there was never a way to keep yourself from becoming the animal you were always meant to be after my uncle bit you.”

Scott gets half of a yell out before it’s cut off as agony racks his form.

Derek sighs, “You ignorant, insufferable pup…”

The beta kicks out uselessly against the ground, his eyes their bright yellow as he builds up his ire.

“Always so gallant, Scott. You just won’t go down with a fight, will you?”

The alpha places himself to be leaning over Scott’s head as he tsks with disappointment. The younger werewolf below growls at him, but there’s not much he can do now that his metamorphosis into a _true_ werewolf began. Derek gets a venomous glare for his troubles, but instead of feeling threatened, Derek laughs and just watches Scott struggle.

“It won’t be long now. Maybe a few minutes for the rest of the last stage and for everything to be complete. Don’t blame Stiles for it, though. He’s just learning the ropes of what it truly means to be an omega.”

Scott’s eyes are able to communicate for him: _You just love to hear yourself talk, don’t you?_

Derek ends up sitting down beside Scott, leaning his chin on one hand, “You know, Stiles is probably going to hate himself for this once he realizes what he’s done. He’ll more than likely try to rebel from his instincts, to ‘right’ his wrongs after you’re finally taken over by the bite. Now, you won’t hold anything against him or even me here shortly, so don’t try and feel too bad or bitter about it.”

Scott winces, groaning as he shuts his eyes.

“Excruciating, isn’t it?” Derek smiles, “I’m afraid that betas get the shorter end of the stick when it comes to— . . . _mental clarity, _in packs. You were meant to be a mindless pup willing to placate your superiors and nothing more— a mere pawn in a game chess far beyond your comprehension. For far too long I’ve let this pack slide as a joke, and it’ll be nothing but a pale shadow in comparison to how it will be now that Stiles is playing. Once Stiles gains some clarity after he recuperates, the rest will fall into place shortly thereafter. I’m only sorry you won’t get to see it, Scott. At least, not in a sense that you’ll understand it.”__

__Scott is already starting to lose consciousness now while the alpha hums quietly, the birds singing on obliviously above in the canopy._ _

__“Soon, Stiles’ and I’s pack will be the stronger than ever,” Derek promises sinisterly, his eyes bleeding through as Scott whines in response, “and nothing can stop us then. Not even hunters— not even _fire._ The Hale name will demand respect, and in turn, our pack will no longer be looked upon as a laughing stock. Our pack— . . .” Derek’s voice drops an octave as Scott gives out a final grunt to signify his last change is complete, “Our pack will embrace the way it has always meant to be.”_ _

 

 

**-xXx-**

“You fucking _asshole!”_

“Kira, please calm down,” Derek watches as Erica and Boyd hold the fuming kitsune back, “you’re overreacting a bit.”

From off to the side, Isaac grimaces, “I don’t think she’s overreacting, Derek… Scott is— I don’t know what Scott is anymore…”

The beta in question is sitting beside Derek, completely unaware or caring for the pack in front of him. He’s too busy whining at Derek and begging for his forgiveness to worry about Kira trying to force herself out of her pack members’ grips. He knows that he upset his alpha, and he’ll do anything right now to appease Derek. It makes Derek _gleeful._

“Scott is, if anything, faithful now,” Derek lightly pets the beta’s head, getting him to purr and settle a little further, “I suggest you all learn from example.”

“Derek, what the fuck is wrong with you?” Jackson comes forward, a displeasured sneer on his face, “You bang Stilinski for a night and then _this_ happens.”

The alpha smirks, “Oh yes, Scott told me about how you went about snooping last night into places where your nose doesn’t belong. I’ll deal with that in particular later,” Jackson’s eyes widen, but Derek ignores him in favor of addressing the pack, “Scott is fine, other than his new state of mentality. There’s no need to be so dramatic.”

Kira growls, “Scott’s lost his mind and you’re telling me I’m dramatic!?”

“His scent does seem off now…” Erica murmurs, despite her getting jerked around slightly by Kira’s movements.

“Derek,” Lydia pipes in, her arms crossed and eyes narrowed in calculation, “despite the obviousness of Scott’s new condition, where’s Stiles?”

“Sleeping. I’m afraid that this morning was taxing on him,” Derek sighs and looks over to Scott, the beta now licking dirt off his hand, “We had a rude interruption that was very intrusive for him.”

Jackson snorts, “He also had a rough last night, too—“

Derek growls, his teeth baring at Jackson. Scott gets on the defensive then, his lip pulling over his own teeth as he pins Jackson down with a yellow glare.

“What the—“

“I will not tolerate your mouth, Jackson, _especially_ if it’s about Stiles.”

Jackson flounders for a moment, but settles on closing his lips as he warily watches Scott settle minutely as Derek tells him to stand down. However, the reformed beta still seems like he’s ready to strike, and it leaves Jackson looking spooked quite thoroughly.

“So Stiles, he’s—“ Lydia purses her lips, “he’s okay?”

“Of course he is. I would never let any harm come to Stiles.”

Kira glares at Derek, “But you’d let harm come to Scott?”

“What happened to Scott was his own fault, sweetheart, despite what you may think.”

The pack goes quiet for a moment, making Derek preen on the inside. Kira has stilled for the moment in confusion and shock, leaving Erica and Boyd to slacken their own limbs in disbelief.

“You— you know what happened?”

Derek laughs, “Of course I do. Scott here challenged Stiles and lost.”

The alpha is met with wide stares, and he sighs.

“There’s a final part of the bite that none of you have experienced, sans Lydia and Kira, though I’m sure that with you being in the pack with us and not being human, there will be some effects. Nonetheless, this last part is withheld until a pack is complete enough to initiate it. Think of it as a failsafe, if you will. The change can’t be started unless everything is just right.”

“I don’t understand,” Erica frowns, “How is Stiles a part of this? He’s human.”

“He was.”

There’s gasps and even some growls, and Scott reacts instantly. He roars at them, quieting them down and keeping them in their place while Derek smiles at his new attack dog.

“Settle, Scott,” he waits until the beta complies to continue, “I’m sure this has come as a shock to you. After all, Stiles was never meant to be anything more than your personal punching bags— the mule to carry all of the bullshit you wanted to offload onto him. He was meant to stay a weak, defenseless human in a wolf pack and supernatural world. You all took advantage of him all of the time, asking him to fix your problems. I decided that I had enough, and that Stiles deserves a pack that will take care of him instead of using him. Now, before you get all upset and defensive, I did have more reason than just that to change Stiles. He's my mate after all.”

The pack looks like their brains have logged off.

“You all seem so surprised.”

Isaac's face is contorting into different, confused expressions, “We never expected that the attraction was mutual…”

Derek snorts, “What? Was Stiles really that undesired in your eyes? Did you think that he was always going to deal with unrequited feelings?”

They all remain quiet.

“Stiles doesn't need to be treated like this,” Derek hisses, “He deserves to be worshipped— to be _valued_. Your ignorance has cost him so much, and I'm making sure he gets back what he's owed.”

Jackson steps forward, making Scott growl, “When in the Hell did you start standing up for Stilinski—“

Derek bears his teeth at the beta, and Scott joins him in the display, “I've stood up for Stiles since the beginning. What have _you_ done?”

Jackson is at a loss for words as he watched the corners of Derek’s mouth upturn.

“Oh, that's right,” Derek's words are bitter, “You did nothing but write him off as the guy who wanted to fuck your girlfriend—“

“Derek!” Lydia flushes in some embarrassment, “What's gotten into you!?”

The alpha laughs, “Sense got into me. Actually, it's always been here. You all have been oblivious this while time, thinking that I was trying to run a pack I didn't want— that I was too broken to do anything but feel sorry for myself while I let you run around like little with your trails cut off. How _ignorant_ are you all, really?”

Before the pack or Derek can do anything else, there’s the sound of a throat clearing itself.

“Derek?”

“Speak of the Devil.”

Derek pivots to see Stiles standing there, rubbing at his eyes, “What’s going on?”

The alpha instantly softens at Stiles, “We’re just discussing pack things—“

“More like getting dictated,” Jackson hisses under his breath.

Stiles furrows his brow at the beta, “What crawled up your ass and died?”

“Stiles, either you’re completely unaware of the current situation, or you’re just as fucked up as he is,” Kira pushes past Erica and Boyd now, “Scott’s completely reverted into something animalistic, and Derek’s over here saying that this is an _improvement—“_

He interrupts with a snort, “Because it is—“

“See what I mean, Stiles?” Kira furrows her brow at the alpha, “He’s acting as though all of this is okay! He even said he changed you!”

Stiles is pale, and his eyes are darting between the three werewolves before him. His chest rises and falls rapidly, and sweat begins to collect on his forehead. Scott instantly whines at Stiles, while Derek comes forward to pull Stiles against his chest. The teen looks at war with himself, unable to decide if he wants to get closer or push Derek away.

“Don’t touch him,” Kira growls, and of course, that sets Scott off.

Instantly, the werewolf has the kitsune pinned to the ground. The sound of twigs and leaves getting crunched below her back is just as apparent as the gasps among the other pack members as Scott snarls at her. Stiles tightens his grip on Derek’s forearm, obviously surprised and frightened at the turnout before him.

“Derek,” Stiles whispers, and the alpha watches as Kira’s wrath transforms into distress as Scott’s fangs near her neck dangerously, “Scott’s gonna kill her if we’re not careful…”

“He won’t kill her unless we order him to.”

Stiles pulls back a little, “Derek, is this— what’s going on?”

“You don’t remember?”

“I remember Scott yelling and destroying the tent, but there’s just nothing after that. I woke up in your car and— did I blackout?”

Derek grins, and out of the corner of his eyes, he sees that Scott has lessened his assault on Kira and is only holding her down now, “You were having a rough morning and passed out when Scott rampaged through our tent—“

“Stop fucking lying to him!” Kira yells, making Scott slam her against the ground, “Stiles, he’s playing you!”

Stiles is looking at the kitsune until Derek’s fingertip leads him gaze back to him gently, and he’s smiling softly as he looks into his omega’s confused stare, “Kira is a bit upset this morning, Stiles. Don’t bother listening to her.”

“Stiles,” Jackson steps forward then, making Derek glare venomously at the beta whenever Stiles’ breaks off eye contact with the alpha, “Kira isn’t lying, he’s—“

“I’m doing nothing, Stiles. Ignore them.”

Stiles’ head flip flops between Derek and the rest of the pack, his severe confliction evident as he can’t decide on who to listen to.

The tension rises even further, making everything worse when the pack members come forward, all of them yelling at Stiles about Derek. The alpha himself is quiet, because he is aware of how uncomfortable and pressuring the pack is becoming. Soon enough, Stiles will end up snapping, and Derek will revel in its results.

Sure enough, as the other members are a few inches away from Stiles, the omega breaks.

His eyes flash and a roar erupts from him, making the other werewolves cower in an automatic response. Derek smugly enjoys their confusion, watching as their wolves respond to the authority of an omega. Lydia covers her ears and shakes her head, apparently unable to take it, as the other members of the pack crumble under Stiles’ demands.

Derek preens at Stiles — loves the way his wolf takes over and turns the laidback teen into something domineering in comparison. The alpha ends up watching Stiles excitedly, and smiles when he notices the shift in the pack members; Lydia is a little slower, but it’s there nonetheless.

Stiles must be unaware of what’s going on or of what he’s doing to the other pack members, because he is still glaring at them for causing him so much trouble.

“God, Stiles,” Derek whispers.

The omega turns on him, his irises alight in a golden shade, similar enough to a beta’s to where he’ll blend in from afar — but here, with Stiles right in front of him, his strength and authority in the pack emanating from him profusely, Derek can’t help but eye Stiles fondly.

“You never cease to amaze me, Stiles.”

“Derek,” Stiles’ voice breaks a little, and his eyes return to their chocolate coloring as he slumps forward, “Derek, what—“

Derek shushes him gently, “It’s okay, Stiles… Just close your eyes.”

Stiles murmurs something, but he’s so tired and spent after this second show of force that he falls asleep against Derek.

It’s okay, though. He needs to rest for the next stage.

 

**-xXx-**

When Stiles wakes next, he finds himself blinking his eyes to fight the blurriness. It’s much later than he remembers, and he’s not in the tent or the back of the Camaro this time.

The ten rubs at his head, groaning softly as he tries to place himself while he sits up.

He’s— he’s in a bed?

Stiles shuffles the covers, about to pull them back when a familiar face bombards him.

“Gah!” Stiles shrieks.

Milliseconds later, the door to the room he’s currently in flies back, leaving Stiles jolting out of the bed to land on its other side.

Scott is whining now, the sound lamenting his regret as footsteps come nearer and nearer to the bed.

“Stiles?”

Stiles’ eyebrows shoot up, “D-Derek?”

“I heard you scream. Did something happen?”

“I— I think I had a really bad nightmare,” Stiles starts, and then stands, “There’s so much that I—“

When Stiles meets Derek’s gaze, he halts in his tracks completely. Instead of having hazel irises, Stiles finds himself seeing crimson.

“Derek, your— your—“

“My eyes?” the alpha asks, his mouth upturned, “Yes. They’re completely shifted now. That’s what happens when your pack is able to get into the final stage.”

“What are you—“

Derek sits on the edge of the bed, looking fondly at Stiles, “Come here.”

Stiles doesn’t move.

“I said,” Derek growls, his canines poking past his lips as he lets his timber vibrate through Stiles and make Scott whine, “ _come. here._ ”

 

Stiles, without intending to, complies, rushing over to the alpha and settling beside him with a small noise of apology.

“Now that’s better,” Derek smiles, wrapping an arm around Stiles to pull him closer, “It’s not so bad, is it?”

Stiles shakes his head, not able to disagree with Derek in case that whole growl-and-comply thing happens again.

“D-Derek,” Stiles stutters out, “What’s—what’s going on?”

Derek chuckles, rumbling happily as he brushes his hand up and down Stiles’ arm, causing the pale flesh to form goosebumps, “I’ve been wanting this for a while now, Stiles— a pack that I had before I trusted the wrong person,” Derek’s grip tightens a little at the memory of Kate, but loosens moments later, “I’ve been waiting to make sure that something like that won’t happen again, that someone— someone like you, Stiles— would give the Hale name purpose.”

That makes Stiles curl in on himself a little, “What do you mean?”

“I needed a mate, better known as an omega, to complete my pack. These omegas are not the rogues like you’re thinking of, but rather like an alpha’s second. Until I changed you, Stiles, my pack was incomplete and in shambles. Your friends, while necessary in the end, were nothing but hindrances in the grand scheme of things. Too often were they troublesome and dramatic. Thanks to you though, Stiles, they’ll never give me any grief again.”

“Derek I don’t—“ Stiles pulls back, and Derek lets him, “So that— those things in my head, growling at the pack, making them submit to me, those were—“

“Real, yes. Now, don’t blame yourself, it’s in your instincts to initiate the last part of the bite. After all, only an omega can.”

Stiles’ mouth is dry while his throat convulses, “So I— I _changed_ my friends?”

“For the better,” the alpha coos softly, purring as he manages to pull a shell-shocked Stiles close, “The pack is now in its top notch condition, with our faithful betas apt on making _us_ happy for once. Doesn’t that sound grand, Stiles?”

Somehow, Stiles gets enough urge to push Derek back, “This? My friends being essentially feral? With you doting on me and me getting instinctually forced into it? No, that doesn’t sound grand at all!”

That makes Derek frown, “You okayed it last night.”

Stiles presses his lips together, fighting himself as much as he’s fighting Derek currently, “I— I don’t know what I want. It’s like there’s thousands of little voices screaming in my head and I just can’t get them straight.”

“Here,” Derek comes closer, his voice velvety as he slinks around Stiles’ side like a snake, “Let me help.”

“N-No I don’t— . . .” Stiles’ protests die down a little, and his hand that had raised to push Derek back falls a little, just like it had last night, “Derek, please…”

Those crimson irises are sparkling as Derek pivots Stiles to where he’s now underneath him, his white teeth glinting with the shadows from his looming position. Off to the side, Scott whines again, but is quieter this time.

“Things are changing, Stiles, especially with you. I already hinted at what can happen now since you received the bite, but I was never specific.”

“D-Derek,” Stiles groans softly, finding his mind fogging up inconveniently.

Derek smiles, “All in good time, Stiles. But first, I want to show you exactly how I changed you.”

Without warning, Stiles feels the boxers he’d been wearing get snaked down to his knees, and a cool finger presses against his entrance. He’s about to open his mouth, but his body beats him in the sense of response, opening up and letting something wet escape before words can even be formed and articulated by Stiles’ stalled tongue.

The alpha above him is smiling hungrily now, letting his fingertip pool together all of the liquid that Stiles knows _should not be there._

“This,” Derek starts, bringing his glistening fingertip to Stiles’ view, allowing it to come near his nose as he smells is appreciatively, “is slick. It’s a natural lubricant you will produce from now on that will ease any matings between you and I.”

“M-Matings?”

“I did tell you that you were able to get pregnant, didn’t I?”

Stiles gawks for a split second, “Well yeah, but—“

“Slick is one trigger for your body to know that an alpha— _your_ alpha— is going to knot you. It’s a biological breeding imperative to help ensure that, in the end, you’ll be strengthening as well as continuing the pack. Producing slick also helps your body prepare for a taxing process that may come to you in a day or so.”

That does nothing for Stiles’ shot nerves, “And that is?”

“A heat. It’s a brief period where your body and your wolf will having nothing but breeding to worry about. You’ll crave my knot and my seed, and you’ll beg me to fuck you until it ends and that there’s absolutely no doubt that it took.”

“So I’m going to beg you to impregnate me, basically… Can’t I just hold out?”

“Not exactly. You will be delirious and unconcerned with anything else, and you’ll find that it’s more uncomfortable to prolong the inevitable.”

Stiles shivers, feeling more slick leak out of him, “That’s— that’s _great._ ”

Derek shrugs, but smirks at the teen below him, “It depends on how you view it. And speaking of viewing, Scott here deserves a treat for coming to your defense earlier.”

“But I—“

Before Stiles can finish, Derek is staring him down with his fangs bared. Something snaps inside of Stiles and relents, allowing Derek to take control as he uncharacteristically bears his neck to the alpha.

“Scott.”

The beta comes forward, his eyes locked in their wolfish shade just like Derek’s.

“Be a good boy and watch your alpha praise his omega. After this, you can go to Kira if you need to, but for right now, you will be respectful and keep your paws to yourself, understood?”

Scott doesn’t argue.

Derek grins and then turns to Stiles, his face soft with awe and affection as he rubs two fingertips down Stiles’ cheek. The omega whines quietly, allowing Derek to touch as he pleases while his brain plays the mantra “alpha, alpha, _alpha_ ” over and over again.

“So good, Stiles. The bite suits you so well, just like I knew it would. My perfect little omega…”

Stiles keens as Derek shoves the tip of his, apparently, hardened cock into Stiles’ hole, the flesh giving way instantly despite being no prepping for it.

Perks of being an omega, Stiles distantly guesses.

“Your hot on the inside,” Derek breathes out, his description of Stiles around his length making Scott twitch from his perch beside the bed, “Tight, but not to constricting. Like you’re holding me.”

Stiles swallows, moaning as Derek begins to rock into him.

“And your scent— _dear god_ your _scent,_ ” Derek rumbles from above, “it’s an aphrodisiac that makes me always just bury myself inside of you.”

The teen mewls now, gripping onto Derek tightly as one thing comes to mind.

“Der,” Stiles gasps out, an epiphany-like thought tyrannically taking over his mind, “Der. Need— need your k-knot…”

“So pretty, when you beg.”

“Just give to me,” Stiles growls lightly.

That makes Derek raise a brow, and he smiles, “You look good with a little fire in you.”

Stiles rolls his eyes while he rolls his hips, having enough of Derek’s small talk and wanting to ride the alpha.

“Stiles—“

“I _need_ it,” Stiles grits out, his words sounding foreign even to himself, “I need it stuffed in me _right now—“_

Derek growls and thrusts hard into Stiles, making his mind go blissfully blank as pleasure dances up his spine.

“You’re closer than I thought,” Derek pants, “Your heat may be here by tonight or tomorrow morning.”

Stiles groans, but mostly from Derek’s thick cock burying itself beautifully in his ass.

“Just _fuck me_ already!”

For once, Derek complies to Stiles, ramming into the omega and making him beg for more and to do other things Stiles isn’t capable of thinking about right now. It’s like his body and mouth are on autopilot, moving and spewing out slick and words that Stiles would otherwise keep bottled up inside.

“Jesus, you’re amazing,” Derek praises after a while, his hands tracing over Stiles’ skin like he’s mapping him to memory.

Stiles only breathes now — a carnal sound, in and out, within the heated space between himself and Derek. His heart thuds in his chest, making his veins feel as though they’d shrunk and everything is tight and twitching with his pulse. Stiles’ vision isn’t better off, the sight of Derek becoming hazy as he feels his orgasm build and blind him to any depth or definition other than the one forming at the base of his pelvis. It’s like nothing else matters — that this means to an end is the only thing Stiles exists for currently.

And it’s on that realization that Stiles whispers, “B-Breed me.”

Derek chokes on something, be it a moan or spit, and halts altogether. He looks down at Stiles in surprise, only for it to morph into a feral deprivation when Stiles adds onto his request.

“I need your pups, alpha… Please give them to me.”

“Oh, I will, little omega,” Derek’s teeth glint sharply as his hands grip tightly onto Stiles’ hips, “I’ll breed you so well that you’ll manage to conceive outside of a heat.”

Stiles moans at that and lets his alpha take control, the pace brutal in comparison to before, but it’s exactly what that new serpent in Stiles’ head wants.

Stiles feels like someone else entirely — like this isn’t his life at all that he’s experiencing — because there’s such an abrupt contrast from yesterday to right now. It feels like years ago, though, that it’s been eons since his life consisted of nothing more but boring pack meetings and an unrequited crush on a werewolf that seemed far out of his league.

Oh, how little did he know then…

“That’s— that’s it,” Derek groans, his head falling onto his chest as his cock swells unnaturally inside of Stiles, locking him in as he comes hotly against Stiles’ insides, “Fucking take it, Stiles…”

Stiles remains silent, tears pinpricking at his eyes now that the haze is gone. He looks over to Scott, seeing his childhood best friend taken over by yellowed eyes and fangs, all mental consciousness replaced with the animal that lurked underneath his skin since sophomore year.

It’s Stiles’ fault — it’s all Stiles’ fault. Erica, Boyd, Jackson, Lydia, Scott, Kira, Isaac. . . He’s the reason they all got here; he’s the reason _he_ got here.

“Stiles?”

Stiles doesn’t look at Derek — is too ashamed and hurt to. He buries his face into the sheets beside him, and doesn’t look at the alpha. That is, until a finger guides him to look at Derek.

“Stiles, what’s wrong?”

“E-Everything.”

Derek smiles softly and brushes away the tear that’s run down Stiles’ face, “Oh, baby. It’s not all that bad. Do you not see it? Do you not realize that you finally get to be loved the way you were supposed to be?”

“I don’t deserve that.”

That makes the alpha shake his head, and he comes down to press a light kiss on Stiles’ lips, only to pull back slightly, “Stiles. I chose you because you are strong. You are the most selfless person I know, always laying yourself down for others. But they used you. They mistreated you at every turn, taking advantage of your kind heart and loyalty. Scott treated you like a sidekick since he got the bite, and Lydia often broke your heart and took advantage of your feelings.”

“So did you.”

Derek’s scowling at that, “But there’s a difference from Lydia and I, Stiles. I actually _care_ about what happens to you. I actually _want_ the best for you. Don’t you see that’s why I’m doing this? To give you everything you ever wanted? Your best friend won’t leave you for another hole to fuck, all of your friends will now do anything for you without question, and I’ve given you my heart. Why would you turn that away, Stiles? Especially after all the shit they put you through? Why would you want to go back to being treated like that?”

Stiles is silent now, and the tears have subsided to an empty feeling in his chest. Derek sees that the omega is in no mood to argue or do anything else then, and sighs.

“I’ll bring Isaac in here. He’s always been able to cheer you up.”

His knot deflates easily, apparently not in the mood either, and he motions for Scott to follow.

Stiles doesn’t watch them leave.

 

**-xXx-**

“This isn’t acceptable, Derek.”

Derek snorts as he throws steak at his betas, watching them growl at one another and fight over them. Even Lydia, who was so proper and contained before, is wild, her hair in knots as she pushes Jackson over for some meat.

The alpha turns after he’s had an eyeful, only to meet a disproving look from Allison, and he smiles at her, “To you and your father, it might be. But you know that this is how packs are truly meant to function.”

“But that’s against—“

“No it isn’t,” Derek glares lightly at her, “The Hale’s had an agreement, and Kate broke that the night she murdered my family. You know that voids it in the first place.”

Allison is tight-lipped, and is frowning at him, “You found a loophole.”

“There isn’t a loophole if there isn’t an agreement.”

She sighs, “I suppose there isn’t… But was this really necessary?”

“I was tired of them being so disrespectful. Besides, Stiles agreed to be my mate and the time was right. He just so happened to get ahold of his instincts early and initiated the last change all on his own.”

“That must be a heavy thing to deal with.”

“He’ll come around.”

Allison doesn’t agree, “I’m not so sure…”

“Allison, I called you over to make you aware of the situation, not to tell me if Stiles can handle something he already did. Besides, isn’t that a little hypocritical of you?”

“How so?”

Derek gestures with a jerk of his head towards Scott, “Your ex is now fighting his friends over some Angus beef, and you seem unperturbed by all of it.”

That makes the teenage hunter exhale softly, “I’m not accepting of what’s going on, but I know that this is werewolf crap that has been forced into my head since birth. I’ve been taught how to compartmentalize if things like this happen.”

“So you’re not mad.”

“Oh, I’m livid. But I also know that there’s nothing I can do at this point to revert this.”

Derek grins, “So we’re at an impasse.”

“Indeed we are.”

Derek smiles and hands her a steak, “Want to make a new treaty then?”

Allison grins weakly, and throws the meat at the boy that broke her heart and trust, “Sure.”

 

**-xXx-**

He must’ve fallen back asleep somewhere through the tears and dotting on a simple-minded, loving Isaac, because the next conscious moment Stiles has is opening his eyes as his body feels as though it’s burning from the inside out.

He gasps, both in surprise and discomfort, as a cramp shoots through his lower abdomen. Slick coats his inner thighs now, leaving them wet and slippery as he fumbles to sit up. The duvet sticks uncomfortably onto his skin (when did he fall asleep naked?) as he tries to move about.

He ends up falling onto the floor, a sticky, hot mess as he tries to figure out what in the Hell is going on with him currently.

“Stiles?”

The door pulls back to reveal Derek, his nostrils flaring at Stiles.

“Ah, I see now.”

“D-Derek,” Stiles groans, his nails lengthening and digging into the wooden floor below him, “Hurts…”

“It’s your first heat. It’s going to be uncomfortable.”

He shakes his head, groaning quietly in denial, “No, no, no, no— I don’t want to be bred…”

Derek shushes him as though he were a pouting child, “It’s okay, Stiles. Heats are only troublesome if you don’t have your alpha with you, and I’m right here, sweetheart.”

“But Derek—“

“Ah ah ah,” Derek waggles a finger in front of Stiles, his eyes sluggishly following it, “You’ll feel better in a few minutes once you have my knot and seed in you. You’ll feel more grounded and sated then.”

Stiles opens his mouth to protest, but his heat drains the ire out of him. He slumps against the floor, his bones aching around the joints, it feels like. He doesn’t even want to _move._

“Come on.”

Derek lifts Stiles, making the teen feel pathetic as Derek carries him to the bed.

“You’ll be falling into a deeper stage of heat soon enough, Stiles. My pheromones will jump start things shortly.”

He doesn’t understand what’s going on now, and the room seems to have abstracted and blurred around him. What once was a lamp is now a blotch of color when he looks at it, swirling around like particles that have no definite shape. Light even seems blinding, making Stiles whine and turn away when a bulb becomes the equivalent to the sun, leaving spots on his eyes from only staring at it for a second.

“Ah, the second stage has begun,” Derek says smugly, “Your temperature has risen to help with conceiving, and your eyes have dilated completely from your hormones. I guess it’s almost like a bad fever to you. But, I must say, Stiles, despite the fact that we haven’t had sex, you look absolutely _wrecked._ ”

When Stiles manages to sluggishly move the bowling balls that have become his eyes to look at Derek, he’s surprised to find that the heat hasn’t affected his appearance — at least negatively.

Derek looks crisper now, despite the blobbed world around him. Stiles can count each whisker on the alpha’s face and can guess how long it’s been since he shaved or trimmed it. For a moment, he even gets caught on Derek’s lips, supple and soft looking, and finds himself wanting to bring up a shaky hand to touch them. He doesn’t, however, because he somehow ends up looking at Derek’s eyes — crimson, lurid, _alpha_ — and everything doesn’t matter after that.

“A-Alpha?”

Derek smiles, the gesture looking absolutely radiant in Stiles’ heat-addled state, “Yes, Stiles. I’m here, don’t worry. Your alpha is going to take care of you, from now until forever.”

Those words must’ve been wait he was waiting on — he doesn’t quite remember now — and he lays himself out for Derek has he feels his heat tug him down, making things hotter and darker, like it’s dragging him towards Hell itself.

The last thing Stiles consciously sees are Derek’s eyes, and then red is lost to black.

 

**-xXx-**

Heat really is Hell, or maybe it’s a close second.

At least, that’s what Stiles can gather from his sporadic moments of clarity or semi-consciousness.

All he gets are blips — moments split and shattered by his heat, making everything jarring and confusing as Stiles feels like he’s wading through a fog that seems as endless as it is dense. It’s like being in a horror movie, walking around through this purgatory place with Derek’s — and even sometimes even his own — filtering through in muffled whispers. He can see things too, forged in the mist of the confusion that’s around him — Derek above him, Derek growling, Derek biting into his neck or nipping his inner thighs.

He doesn’t quite feel these things, though, like he’s been separated from his body through some strange means, and it’s having a joyride without him as he tries to get himself back.

“Gonna look so good,” Stiles walks on, already used to hearing lewd comments from Derek that seem miles away, echoing around him as they always do, “You’re gonna be swollen with my pups in no time…”

There’s a slap of skin, but it cuts out after that, and Stiles doesn’t know whether to be grateful or not. He isn’t sure if this alternate reality he’s trapped in only exists when he’s in heat, or if he’s succumbed to the bite like everyone else. . .

Wait— is this. . . is this what his friends are experiencing? . . .

“God you’re tight, Stiles. If I hadn’t been the one to take it, I’d almost say you were still a virgin.”

Stiles breathes in heavily, a hopelessness settling in his chest that he hasn’t felt since his mom died. His friends are gone because of him. His regular life is gone because of him. _He_ might even be gone at this point, who knows?

Stiles’ rolls his eyes at yet another comment about his ass, and continues to trudge on like there might be an end right around the corner.

Like he said, who knows?

 

**-xXx-**

It’s practically a miracle when Stiles comes to.

He counts his fingers, then his toes, and celebrates by shedding a well-deserved tear or two. In fact, he’s so overwhelmed initially he almost forgot what had been happening beforehand.

As he pivots around the room, Stiles notices that not much has changed. There are new sheets on the bed, as well as a change of clean clothes at the foot of it. Otherwise, no Derek. Stiles exhales in relief, and moves to get dressed, only to halt as he feels a dull pain in his ass.

God, even with all the sexual benefits of being an omega, Derek still managed to make him sore? How big is—

Stiles stops that train of thought right there and doesn’t start it up again. Instead, he muddles through the ache in his pelvis and dons on the Henley — Derek is making him wear his shirts now too? — and sweats, one to roll up the band of them because they’re two sizes too big on him.

“I see that you’re up and functional now.”

Stiles jumps, turning towards the doorway that Derek is currently leaning on, his eyes landing on Stiles easily. Stiles doesn’t exactly meet his gaze, but rather fingers at the hem of Derek’s Henley absently.

“Stiles?”

“Sorry,” Stiles apologizes, unsure as to why.

He’s just a mess right now.

“Are you okay?”

“I don’t know,” Stiles murmurs.

Derek hums and comes forward, but for once, his presence isn’t exactly foreboding. It’s almost as if nothing changed within the past few days, that this is the old Derek that could be trusted and was at Stiles’ back instead of his throat.

“Think of it like jet lag, but from heat,” Derek suggests, and he stops walking, leaving some room between him and Stiles.

It makes Stiles frown, “I’m guessing that I’m off by more than just a few hours…”

Derek is quiet at first, but nods, “You were in heat in for five days.”

Somehow, it doesn’t exactly shock Stiles. If anything, the statement ties in with how his past few days have been going.

“Of course I was.”

“You seem upset.”

Stiles laughs but without the humor, going over to the nightstand to get away from Derek, “My life has been turned upside down in a matter of days, and you think I’m supposed to be okay with this? I was only a teenage human having a crush on an older friend, but now I’m some _fucking omega_ that turned his friends into animals—”

“Breathe.”

Stiles doesn’t realize that he’s hyperventilating until then, but the acknowledgement only adds oil to the fire, “Fuck you! I trusted you! I _loved_ you! And you fucking took advantage of that and took advantage of the pack and—“

“Stiles, you’re having a panic attack—“

“I know I’m having a fucking panic attack!” Stiles cries, and he falls against the bed, the guilt of what’s happened — with his involvement — cripples him.

Stiles feels Derek’s hands grip onto him tightly, but he fights against them. Tears and curses roll off his cheeks and tongue in a harsh stream, making Derek drown in Stiles’ anger and anguish. The alpha takes it though — takes it until Stiles drains himself until he sinks against Derek’s chest haggardly. Stiles just cries then, his furious words lost to sobs as he feels Derek hold his hands by the wrists.

“Stiles, you’re okay now. Everything’s okay.”

“N-No it’s not,” Stiles stutters through the tears, “Everything’s _not_ okay.”

Derek rumbles, and pulls Stiles to his chest, “Stiles, you need to realize that this is how packs are supposed to be— that this is for the greater good. The pack is better and stronger because of you—“

“Because I dehumanized my friends! Because I broke them!”

“They were mindless before and they’re mindless now, what’s the difference?”

Stiles coughs then, his words caught up in his convulsing throat, “I-I’m the difference! I changed them, Derek! They’re— I—“

“There’s nothing you can do, Stiles. This already happened. Things are already in motion.”

“What—“ that catches Stiles’ attention, “what do you mean?”

Derek grins, and Stiles feels a hand come up to his abdomen, “You conceived during your heat, there’s absolutely no denying it. I can scent a small change in your scent now since your hormones are changing to develop a baby.”

Stiles shakes his head, “N-No… It can’t— I can’t—“

“You can,” Derek smiles, “and you will. You don’t know how long I’ve waited to have a pup with you, Stiles. It’s— it’s been forever since I originally thought of it.”

The omega whines in distress, his heart starting to seem like it’s beating in his ears.

“You’re already practically glowing, Stiles,” Derek praises, running a few fingers down the omega’s face appreciatively, “I can’t wait to see how you’ll look in a few months.”

The statement is just as daunting as it is terrifying, and Stiles swallows down air as he finds his mouth completely dry.

“Derek, this shouldn’t be possible—”

“It is, and it’s happening.”

“I don’t want it.”

Derek’s face grows dark, and his eyes are sinister as they glare at the omega, “You what?”

“I s-said,” Sties struggles to get the words out, both from fear and the voice in his head screaming at him to stop, “I don’t want it.”

Derek growls and pins Stiles in, “You’re _not_ going to deny our pup.”

“It isn’t mine if I never wanted it, and I _never_ will want it.”

That enrages the alpha enough to make him push himself away from Stiles, his teeth bared as he snarls at the empty air before him. Stiles curls in on himself a little, hearing the whines from downstairs where the betas reside.

Derek only quiets a few minutes afterwards, but he’s still breathing roughly and looks as though he’s one second away from snapping altogether again.

“Don’t say that,” he grits out, his back tense as it faces Stiles, “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“And if I say otherwise? What are you going to do, hurt me?”

Derek stiffens a little more, his tone hinting that Stiles’ words offended him, “A werewolf can never hurt their mate, especially if they’re pregnant.”

“I guess the odds are in my favor for once then,” Stiles hisses, and he pulls himself up from the ground.

The alpha doesn’t say anything else — only breathes.

“You better go comfort the betas,” Stiles whispers, “They probably think they pissed in your kibble n’ bits.”

Derek slams the door on the way out.

Still, despite the fight between him and Derek, one good thing came out of it — the admittance that Stiles has control.

Oh, and he’s definitely going to make use of that.

 

**-xXx-**

Stiles is petting Isaac’s head as Scott snores beside him.

“I don’t want to leave you guys, I really don’t, but I’m not sure how I could manage to get away from Derek with all of you trailing me. Maybe if you could keep quiet, but— . . . it’d be best for me to go alone.”

Isaac whines, his puppy eyes having lost no effectiveness — even if he shares a puppy-like mentality as well.

“I really don’t want to, Isaac,” Stiles feels Lydia curl up against his back while Jackson leans his head over Stiles’ shoulder, watching the omega pet the other beta, “but I got to get out of her, maybe send word out too. Do you think Chris would do anything? I wonder if he already knows…”

Erica parts Stiles’ toes, looking in between them while Boyd holds up Stiles’ leg. Kira sleeps across Scott with her head near Stiles’ knee, having been tuckered out from her and Scott playing _chase_ earlier.

“You all are so weird now. At least now you don’t tell me to shut up when I do all of the talking…”

Isaac shuffles in Stiles’ lap (he’s honestly a lap dog if anything else), and he sighs as he closes his eyes. Erica notices and decides it’s naptime, and Boyd always follows Erica like she’s actually his alpha. Jackson also must’ve lost interest in watching Isaac, because he joins Lydia at Stiles’ back, only to butt his head in between Stiles’ arm and his torso to snooze.

“I miss the old pack,” Stiles murmurs, but settles with his betas and closes his eyes.

 

**-xXx-**

The morning of, Stiles sends the betas to bother Derek. When the alpha comes around, Stiles feigns post-heat tiredness. Derek promises him that he’ll feel better in the upcoming days, and that he’ll make him some chicken soup for lunch. A small, darker part of Stiles finds it endearing, but a majority of him is repulsed.

After all, that is why he’s running away, isn’t it?

He waits till he knows Derek has gone with the betas to wear them out a little before he begins to train them like he once mentioned to Stiles sometime when they were lying together during his heat. It’s the perfect opportunity for Stiles to run, and he’s going to take it.

But— . . .

There’s that voice at the back of his head again, begging him to stay and to submit to Derek and let everything happen. It talks about the baby and how it needs to be safe — that only Derek can keep it safe —and that he needs to think about what he’s doing before it’s too late.

He steels himself though.

All of their parents are probably wondering where they’ve gone, and the thought of his father going through losing someone twice — especially when it doesn’t need to happen — hurts him more than anything in the world.

So running away it is…

He manages to get out of the house — which, much to his surprise, isn’t the pack house in the Preserve anymore. That puts him at a disadvantage, and he can’t have too many of those right now… But still, he powers on, running into the thicket of the woods opposite in the direction the pack left in. All he can hear is his rough panting and the snapping of twigs beneath his bare feet. His soles feel raw a couple of minutes in, and his lungs burn just as badly. The direction he’s heading in is unclear, and he doesn’t know if he’s running towards civilization or a deeper expanse of woods.

It doesn’t matter in the end, because, out of nowhere, there’s a heavy weight grappling him to the ground. Instead of falling onto his face like his instincts expected, his assailant maneuvers them to where they take the brunt of the blow.

Stiles gasps out air, both from exertion and surprise, as the tackler flips them to where he’s finally on his back.

Deep, crimson eyes bore into him, framed by black fur and sharp, white teeth as the beast above him growls.

“ _O-Oh my god,_ ” Stiles wheezes as he knows it’s over, and proceeds to pass out.

 

**-xXx-**

Derek doesn’t want to have to do this, but Stiles has left him no choice.

The betas whine as they follow Derek, their eyes trailing on their angry alpha and the unconscious omega being carried in his arms. They can more than likely scent Derek’s upset, and the fear roiling off Stiles in pungent waves, and it probably does nothing more than confuse their one-track minds.

When they get back inside, Derek sets Stiles on the couch, making sure to go over his mate’s body to make sure that nothing happened to him during the fall.

“Watch him. I don’t imagine him getting up any time soon, but if he does, I don’t imagine him trying to stay, either. And we can’t have that, can we?”

The betas scurry around Stiles as Derek walks away, heading towards the stairs that lead to the basement.

Derek really, _really_ doesn’t want to do this, but Stiles has left him no choice.

 

**-xXx-**

“A collar, Derek, really?”

“He tried to run,” is all the alpha growls out, and the betas tremble at his feet as he prepares their lunch before their training regimen.

Allison sighs and looks at Stiles, grimacing at the black metal on his neck and the chain attached to it.

“That, or you’re into some kinky stuff I don’t want to know about.”

“He’s pregnant,” Derek explains lightly, not even in the mood to reprimand Erica when she swipes a bit of meat off the counter, “If he goes back into regular society, he’ll be outed and worse. He’ll endanger himself, and especially the baby.”

Allison doesn’t comment, obviously torn between her true feelings and a response that won’t get her throat ripped out.

“You want to put an arrow through my heart, don’t you?”

“I’m debating on it,” she answers honestly.

Derek rolls his eyes lightly at her, “I don’t care either way. I only called you over to see if the new agreement went through.”

Allison sighs, leaning against the counter, “Chris was reluctant. The whole town is torn up, thinking that you all went missing on your camping trip. It was real nice, you know, leaving ruined tents for the sheriff to find when he went looking for his son. He’s been broken up thinking his son got mauled to death or murdered last weekend. Little does he know that the big bad wolf has been under his nose all along.”

The alpha sighs as he sets a plate of lean chicken on the ground, stepping over his ravenous betas to pay attention to Stiles now, “Your father should’ve known this was coming.”

“He knew. Maybe he hoped you wouldn’t do it— that you’d fall through. He was in denial of it becoming a reality, but he was aware it was a possibility. I think that’s what made him agree in the end, especially since Kate broke our last one.”

“And for the fact that I have a right to a pack,” Derek runs a hand over Stiles’ stomach, wondering how it’ll change in the upcoming months, “This might not have been necessary if your aunt hadn’t of murdered my family in cold blood.”

“I know,” she quietly murmurs, her eyes downcast.

Derek doesn’t say anything else, but rather rumbles and rubs his face against Stiles’ abdomen.

“I’ll tell my dad that the pack is in good shape, and that you even have a pup on the way.”

“What about their families? The sheriff? Are you going to blow the whistle on us?”

Allison smiles solemnly, “I’ve found that it’s better to let sleeping dogs lie. And I think, in this case, it’s better off believing your child is dead or missing than wandering around like a feral animal.”

With that, Allison leaves, making Derek wonder if Scott’s betrayal really did make her far more bitter.

 

**-xXx-**

When Stiles wakes, he hears the rustle of chains.

His first thought is: _oh good, I’m alive_ — that is, until he notices that the noise of chains is tied to the fact that he’s tied up.

Great.

He follows the chain up with his hands to where he finds it seated on his neck by a clip in the collar he’s wearing. The metal is heavy and cold, making Stiles’ neck ache and his skin goosebump uncomfortably.

“Shit—“

“It’s a shame that you tried running.”

Stiles jolts, his head shooting up when he sees that Derek is eyeing him disappointingly.

“I can’t trust you now.”

“The same could be said for you.”

Derek isn’t fazed by the comment, if anything, he looks tired, “I only want what’s best for you, Stiles. Do you think I _want_ to tie you up like this?”

“Then why do it?”

“Because you just can’t go back running to your old life anymore,” Derek says, his words full of exasperation, “You’re pregnant. In a few weeks, you’ll experience symptoms. In a few months, you’ll begin to show. You will become a scientific anomaly that will be studied and turned into exhibit A for the rest of your life. The baby— I don’t even want to think about what would happen to them afterwards…”

Stiles notices the vulnerability in Derek’s eyes, and finds himself becoming only slightly sympathetic, “I didn’t think about that.”

The ire is back now, “Of course you didn’t.”

Stiles hangs his head, a little ashamed at the complete disregard of his new status — both as being an omega werewolf and that he’s now expecting. His instincts must be in more control, because he feels _guilty._

“You smell regretful,” Derek murmurs.

“I’m sorry,” he blurts, and tears well in his eyes, “I— I’m a mess right now.”

“It’s to be expected.”

Stiles doesn’t look up at Derek, “I don’t even know why I’m apologizing to you. I shouldn’t have to.”

“Not really.”

Stiles takes in a deep breath and lets his head hang back, his eyes rimmed with fresh tears, “Then why am I?”

“You know you upset your alpha,” Derek states easily, like Stiles hasn’t felt like he’s been living a fucked up nightmare for who knows how long now, “Your wolf doesn’t like that. I’m sure that you’ve been fighting it thus far.”

“I have…”

“You can only deny your instincts for so long, Stiles. If you keep trying, you can lose yourself in the fight.”

The omega doesn’t reply to that.

Derek comes forward, but Stiles refuses to look at him. He sees Derek settle in front of him, and feels the alpha’s hands cup his face. Stiles is too tired — too done — to fight it now. Besides — as the chains rustle beneath him — what can he do about it now?

“Stiles, this is your life now. This is _our_ life now. The pack, our child’s,” one of Derek’s hand drops to cover Stiles’ stomach, “This is our future. If you keep denying it and fighting it you’re only going to hurt yourself, and I can’t allow that.”

“Okay.”

Derek seems surprised, “What?”

“I said okay,” Stiles’ voice is quiet, it’s usual timber gone now and replaced with a broken whisper.

“You’re not going to fight me anymore?”

“No point in it,” Stiles murmurs, feeling drained as he lets himself slump into Derek, “I’ve been yours since I let you take me back to your tent that night.”

Derek doesn’t seem to believe him almost, but he doesn’t want to question it either.

“O-Okay…”

Stiles sighs, feeling the collar weigh him down even further.

Maybe this is Hell, and he just hasn’t be able to wake up.

 

**-xXx-**

 

##### A few months later. . .

 

Pregnancy is a bitch.

Stiles is a veteran now because of it. No stomach bug can compare to morning sickness, or to his reaction to certain scents that made him hurl. Back pains are a common norm, as are swollen ankles and gas. He’s certain it makes him look horrendous, but Derek seems to think otherwise.

After all, Derek’s a sweetheart now that Stiles has accepted everything, and he’s been a grand help with Stiles’ first pregnancy. In fact, he’s rubbing Stiles’ achy joints and ever-growing bump, and he’s been feeding Stiles all of his favorite foods and letting him pick what movies to watch while the pack sleeps on happily at the foot of the couch late at night.

Because of his hard work and dedication, their healthy baby girl will be born here in a month or so, and Stiles can’t wait for it.

It’s almost as if that first month didn’t happen — the fights, the denial, the shock of it all — and that this is some weird, alternate timeline where the pack was always mindless like this, and Derek was still a good guy and alpha and Stiles loves him with all his heart now that they’re expanding their pack together.

It’s so close to being real. Stiles just has to believe in it enough, and maybe then it’ll come true.

**Author's Note:**

> ##### Prompt me here at:
> 
> http://sunshinexlollipops.tumblr.com/promptask
> 
> ##### This was written to:
> 
> 1\. Foals - Spanish Sahara [Life is Strange Soundtrack - Ep.5]  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MnkrUTb6K1Y
> 
> 2\. Mud Flow - The Sense of Me [Life is Strange Soundtrack - Ep.5]  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=atS7kaLMh2M
> 
> 3\. Local Natives - Mt. Washington [Life is Strange Soundtrack - Ep.2]  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dvk8HldcXis


End file.
